


if i was a princess, with silver and gold

by siddals



Category: Marco Polo (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:39:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siddals/pseuds/siddals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nergui's first glimpse at royalty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if i was a princess, with silver and gold

Nergui repeats her mother’s rules in her mind. _Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not cause trouble. Do not draw attention to yourself_. The instructions are not as difficult as they might appear. She is transfixed by the crowds, the noise, the people. She has been to their Khan’s feasts before, but only when she was young, too small to truly remember. She has never seen something so magnificent.

She knows well the reasons for her parents’ prior absence from their Khan’s celebrations. In recent winters, her parents’ animals have withered and died nearly as quickly as her siblings always have. Their ger, for as long as she can remember, has been cursed with hunger and sickness. 

To present adequate tribute for their Khan would have meant their starvation. She feels a stab of guilt at the thought. The last year has been kinder than the previous ones, but her parents can hardly afford even now to pay tribute. She had been delighted when they first told her of their plans to attend the Khan’s feast, but now she feels an odd sickness thinking of the cost. Earlier in the evening, she had seen the Khan and Khatun. Both had been dressed in rich silk deels, the Khatun with an elaborate beaded headdress on her head.

 _Why do you want more from us_ , she thinks, _what is next, our blood_? She promptly swallows the thought, feeling shame. Such thoughts are treason, she knows.

Her elder sister, Oghul-qaimish, remains at their parents’ side, but Nergui feels pulled towards the sights and smells, even though they give her a strange, queasy feeling. A group of children around her age play near the Khan’s ger, she can see, even a few girls. She feels a pang of nervousness, but a pull towards them.

When her mother is looking elsewhere, Nergui slips away. The children seem to ignore her, preoccupied in their game, and Nergui doesn’t dare approach them. For a moment, she is frozen, wondering whether to go back to her mother, when she hears a voice.

“My brothers don’t want to play with me,” a girl her own age says, “will you?”

The girl must be a noble, Nergui thinks. She wears a headdress nearly as elaborate as the Khatun’s, and her deel is made of silk, a rich, deep blue in color. Nergui stares, transfixed by how the fabric shimmers when it catches the light. It is like nothing she has ever seen before. Nothing she has seen before she thinks, has ever been so beautiful. Nergui does not know it yet, but one day, there will be another dress, made from the same material, for a woman, not a girl. (It will seem like a prison around her body.)

Nergui almost wonders whether to find her frightening, but the girl grins, displaying two missing front teeth and Nergui decides she likes her. At her back is a large man with corded muscles who glances down at her.

“Yes,” she says, unthinkingly, by instinct.

"Very good. Tell me your name.”

“Nergui.”

“Walk with me, Nergui,” the girl says, speaking as though it is a command. _Perhaps it is a command_ , Nergui thinks, but the thought gives her little pause. She is transfixed by the girl.

“I will accompany you, princess,” the man says, “You should not walk alone.”

The realization hits her quickly, and she feels a fool. The girl’s arch tone, her headdress, the silk of her dress, all tell a story. This is no ordinary noblewoman. This is her Khan’s daughter.

“Za Bing,” the girl says, with something of a plea in her voice, “Let me see the feast. At least let Nergui come with me.”

“You may bring her, if you like,” the man says, with a short glance towards Nergui. It is sharp but not unkind. “I will come as well.”

For a moment, the princess pouts, but then it passes. To Nergui’s amazement, she seems to forget her frustration entirely. Moods, she will later realize, slip on and off this girl as quickly as shifting sand. (Later still, she will study it, attempting to commit her princesses’ moods, her pride, her mercurial temper to memory, to bring them close, to keep them alive.)

The princess smiles at her.

“You did not tell me your name, my lady,” Nergui says, after a moment, with a hint of nervousness.

“I am Kokachin. Come with me, Nergui. You will be my friend, won’t you?”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "before the beginning - three sentences (or more) about something that happened before the plot of my current project" from WIP meme on tumblr. This was meant to be just a few sentences, but it was a fun scenario to think about, so it spiraled a bit out of my control. The title is from The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood, specifically from "If I was a Princess, a Popular Tune".


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